


MisDial

by androgynousclintbarton, Illusinia



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Laura Barton/Natasha Romonoff (Mentioned), M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-19
Updated: 2016-01-19
Packaged: 2018-05-15 01:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5766454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/androgynousclintbarton/pseuds/androgynousclintbarton, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illusinia/pseuds/Illusinia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Phil had so many things to say to Lance about his antics out in public, but it seems like life would rather throw him one heck of a curve ball instead of letting him tear into a agent as he had planned to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MisDial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [magicstele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicstele/gifts).



                Technology is fascinating. It’s always changing, becoming more accessible, and advancing so people can do things like make voice and video calls or keep all of their contacts in a nice little app on their phone, in alphabetical order.

If they’re imaginative people, like Phil pretends he is, they can even put cute nicknames or code names into the contact list, instead of the person’s real name. It’s a useful feature in Phil’s opinion.

                After all, there had been nothing more embarrassing than the day a junior agent lost their phone. It resulted in Black Widow and Hawkeye receiving a slew of text messages and calls from drug dealers, criminal overlords, goons, and even other assassins when their numbers were posted online. The only saving grace had been that the junior agent had put their code names in the phone, instead of their real names, so that was all of the damage that was done. Everyone had been grateful for SHIELD’s anti-tracking technology installed on all standard-issue phones (thank you Mack.)

                The name’s section in his contact list was a feature that Phil made constant use of to avoid situations like that. His phone was full of code and nicknames, just in case he lost his phone on a really bad mission (which hadn’t happened as of yet thankfully, but he was still cautious). It seemed to happen to everyone eventually.

                Looking through his phone was usually worth a good chuckle in his opinion, though most of his friends would probably disagree. Even now, as he scrolled through his contacts looking for a certain name with anger boiling in his veins, he couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips as he read off some of the nicknames on the way down.

                Acrobatic Ass-Kicker – Bobbie Morse

                Adorable British Biochemist- Jemma Simmons

                Grumpy Cat Mug- Leo Fitz

                Deadly Pilot- Melinda May

                Elegant SO- Nick Fury

                In hind sight, Phil figured he should probably be a little more careful with the names that he read next time. His intention was to call Half-Wit (Yes Lance, that is your name in my phone, get over it) to give the idiot a piece of his mind after Daisy recollected everything that had happened when her, Mack and Lance decided to follow Roseland’s second in command, Banks, on a hunch.

                He was so angry; he didn’t bother to check the number that he had dialed. In his head, he was already running through the laundry list of issues he intended to discuss with the man. This would not be a fun phone call for Lance and he was going to make sure the Agent knew exactly how much he’d screwed up by the end of it. The phone clicked, signaling that the call had been picked up, and he didn’t bother to wait for the half-wit to say hello.

                “Are you insane!?” Phil had promised himself that he wouldn’t raise his voice, he really had, but this time Lance had gone too far. He was honestly too angry to care, anyway. Maybe yelling at Lance would drive something through the man’s thick skull. “It’s one thing for the three of you to stalk an ATCU Agent, someone we’re suppose to be working with, but you…you attacked him! You went out with a weapon and attacked him! Whether it was a night-night gun or not, you risked out agreement with another organization because you don’t know how to use your brain, or how to listen to orders and stay benched!”

                Taking a deep breath, Phil tried to even out his breathing while he waited for a response. Or his words to sink into Lance’s thick skull, which ever came first. When there was no response on the other end after a minute, however, he huffed in annoyance and continued riling against his agent. “Let me guess, you thought you were doing it for the ‘good of the team’. You figured that, since Daisy and Mack had a theory about Banks being Lash, either way he’s an ass so he doesn’t deserve any basic human respect?” Once again he found himself waiting for a response, ignoring the slight twitch in his fingers as anger radiated throughout his entire body. And again, none came. Now he really was starting to lose his temper.

                “God damn it Hunter, losing my hand wasn’t bad enough for you? Now you have to help chip away at my sanity and the little amount of hair that I have left!?” On the other side of the phone he heard the distant sound of a glass shattering on the ground, and immediately assumed that Hunter was attempting to come up with excuses and promises to do better. It was the man’s MO, after all.

                He had never been more wrong in his life.

                “What the hell do you mean you lost a hand!?” Phil’s head dropped sharply into his chest as Clint’s voice echoed over the line. Snatching up the phone, he felt his blood pressure rise as he read the name across the top of the screen: Hawkeye. He had hit ‘Hawkeye’ instead of ‘Half-Wit’ in his contacts, and somehow managed to make the call without realizing it. He knew he should have deleted Clint out of his phone when he decided that he could never call him, but there was always something in the back of his head telling him it would be a stupid thing to do. There was no such thing as ‘never’ in espionage, and he didn’t want to have to fish the number out of some hole if he did need it again one day. He should have risked having to dig the number out of a hole. If he had, he wouldn’t have called Clint by accident. He never would have had to hear the hurt and betrayal in Clint’s tone as he spoke.

                “Clint…”

                “Oh, Hell no!” The other man’s voice went sharp, three years of anger burning up inside of him. “You died! You were killed in New York playing ‘Mr. Perfect Hero’ while I was trying to kill my best friend! I fought in that battle thinking I would be coming home to you! I shot aliens in the streets of New York while I planned a double date for us with Natasha and Laura! While I thought of visiting my kids with you and telling them more stories while we all laughed and ate Laura’s home made cupcakes!”

                Every word that Clint spoke dripped with anger and hurt, and Phil knew that on the other side of the phone, Clint had his eyes screwed shut while his whole body shook. He had never wanted to be in the same room as a person who was on the verge of murdering him so bad, wishing he could just wrap his arms around Clint and apologize while whispering new promises to the blond.

                “I went back to base after the fight thinking…” Clint’s voice cracked, the sound followed by a small sob before Clint cleared his throat and continued. His voice was thicker though, and Phil knew there would be tears on his former lover’s face. “Nick had to tell me…he had to sit me down and explain everything and promise it wasn’t my fault when it was! When losing you was no one’s fault but mine…”

                “Clint, don’t blame yourself for that.” He tried to keep his voice even as he tried to act as the voice of reason that he always was, wishing this had happened in person instead of on the phone, so that he could hold Clint while he cried.

“I mourned you.” His fingers itched to touch Clint’s face. To wipe away the tears he knew were staining the blonde’s skin, and to pull the younger man into a hug while he promised to never leave again. To never hurt Clint like this again. “Did…did Nick tell you not to inform me? Did he…” Phil could hear the betrayal in Clint’s voice as he thought about the man he looked up to as his own personal superhero, lying to him about his husband’s death.

“No, God no.” Phil needed to make it as clear as possible that this was not Nick’s fault. His best friend had done everything in his power to not only bring Phil back to life, but also to try and make it so that Phil could let Clint know that he was back, that he was alive and coming home. But, Malick had convinced the rest of the WSC to deny the Avengers access to the knowledge about Phil’s revival. Even though both Clint and Natasha were level seven, and Malick had covered it up with the lame excuse that the Avengers needed Phil to be dead, so that they would keep working together. “No Clint, Nick wanted to tell you and Natasha himself, but the WSC wouldn’t budge on the issue. They thought the Avengers would have no reason to fight together if I wasn’t dead.”

“SHIELD is gone… the WSC is gone Phil, you could have called earlier and without a misdial.” The anger had started to die away, but there was still hurt in Clint’s voice even as he stated the facts to his husband.

“I had been gone for almost two years when SHIELD fell, I assumed…” he bit down on his tongue, wondering how best to explain himself. “I thought you had moved on by then. That I would just be digging up old wounds.”

                “If you count hiding in one of Natasha and Laura’s guest rooms and doing renovations for them to keep myself occupied as ‘moved on’.” For a moment there was nothing but silence. Phil wasn’t sure what he could say to that.

                There were multiple scenario’s playing in his head at that moment, but there was no possible way he could calculate an outcome when he didn’t know how the grief of his death had affected Clint.

“Can I…” Clint’s voice broke through the silence, pulling Phil out of his thoughts and bringing a small degree of panic to the surface. He couldn’t predict what Clint might ask next, and the whole situation was so delicate that Phil wasn’t sure how he could respond. “Can I see you? I’ll meet anywhere I promise, and I don’t care if you’ve moved on I just…”

All of a sudden, Phil’s thoughts went to Rosland and the sort of friendship that they had been fostering. He didn’t know where that was going yet, but it didn’t classify as ‘moved on’ as of that moment, even though he knew he was developing feelings that he shouldn’t be. Not because of who she was, but because he knew some of it did relate back to Clint. That some of what he was feeling for Rosland was transference from his abruptly terminated relationship with his husband.

“I’ll send you an address of a café we can meet,” promised Phil, the words out of his mouth before he could second guess them or take them back. “I’ll explain everything there.”

                “Thank you.” He could hear a hint of hope in Clint’s voice. It made his stomach flip and his heart pound in his chest. “And, uh, Phil?”

“Yes?” asked Phil distractedly, his mind trying to recall the name of the café while figuring out how he was going to get out of the base for an afternoon without something blowing up.

                “Try not to give that Hunter guy too much shit, okay?” requested Clint, a touch of humor in his voice. “If he hadn’t messed up, I would still think that you were dead. I kind of owe him for the chance he gave me with your misdial.”

“Fine,” huffed Phil in amusement. He had to admit, Clint had a point. He was still going to give Hunter hell, but it might be worth it to lighten up a little more than he’d intended to when he did speak to his agent. “I’ll go easy on him, this time.”

                “Thanks handsome.” His face started to heat up at the simple compliment, so familiar coming from Clint. He wasn’t used to complements anymore, and he had never realized just how much he missed them until that moment. “I’ll see you soon, I guess.”

                “Tomorrow at three,” Phil confirmed, a hint of excitement in his voice. “If you’re with Laura and Natasha…”

“I’ll let them know, and maybe Tasha will come along for a bit to give you a piece of her mind.” chuckled Clint in a soft voice. “I’m sure she has some choice words for you.”

                “Please, make sure she doesn’t bring knives or sharp objects,” requested Phil. The female assassin wouldn’t kill him in pubic, but she might maim him. He’d watched her interrogate a man while sitting in a café once. It was terrifying how much damage she’d done without anyone noticing.

                “I’ll ask Laura to convince her to leave all but the essentials at home,” chuckled Clint. “She’s better with her wife than I am.”

Leaning back in his chair, Phil closed his eyes for a moment and let himself get lost in the soft sound of Clint’s voice. For three years he had been ignoring the itch in his fingers to grab his phone and dial Clint’s number, and he no longer knew why. He had never missed a voice in his ears so much, or craved the sound of another person’s laughter. Clint’s voice was like an addiction that he thought he had gotten over, but was as strong as ever as soon as he got a taste of it again.

A knock on his office door put a rude stop to the daydreams that had started to fill his mind. “I have to get back to work.” He didn’t have to ask Clint how he felt about that; he was 100% sure the archer was pouting. “I’ll text you the address ASAP and we’ll meet up tomorrow, I promise.”

                “I’ll hold you to that, gorgeous.” The door cracked open slowly, and Daisy stuck her head in, waiting for the go ahead before the rest of her body followed. “I…I love you.”

                For a moment it felt as if Phil’s heart had stopped, and he knew that there was a hint of a blush spreading across his face because of the grin that was now starting to appear across Daisy’s lips.

                “I love you, too,” he said softly, not looking forward to the interrogation that Daisy was obviously thinking up. “We’ll talk later.”

                Pulling his phone away from his ear he hit the ‘end call’ button quickly, wishing he could just spend the next hour listening to Clint breathing on the other end instead of working.

                Looking back up at Daisy, he took a deep breath and sighed. “You have two minutes for questions, then it’s back to work.”


End file.
